After The Storm
by CUtopia
Summary: VoldemortWon!AU - When Marcus woke from a deep slumber, he immediately knew that something was wrong, since everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.


Entry for the **Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 6** , _Finals Round 2_ \- Wigtown Wanderers vs Kenmare Kestrels

 **Position:** Captain

 **Prompt:** Write the quote your Beater 2 chose. - _Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt. (Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-five)_

 **Words:** 2,020

 **Betas:** Aya Diefair, DinoDina

Voldemort Won!AU

* * *

 **After The Storm**

When Marcus woke from a deep slumber, he immediately knew that something was wrong, since everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

Even before opening his eyes, he was aware that something had changed around him, and that even his body must have changed, for he felt no terror and pain upon entering the conscious world.

He was unable to remember when had been the last time he'd not felt every single bit of his body that had been hit by a curse, a foot, a fist.

He also couldn't recall how long it had been since he'd slept in a real bed instead of a hard stone floor, his limp body dropped on it after the torture was over.

He didn't know for how long that had been his reality, where sleep, when it came, was merciful, as the waking world was a horror he was more than glad to escape from.

So when in this moment, he felt the warmth of soft blankets underneath him instead of pain or the hard ground, when he inhaled clean, cool air that soothed his lungs and his body was full of the comfort of healing, Marcus knew that something was wrong.

Had the torture finally killed him, like he'd sometimes caught himself begging in his weakest moments? Was this how being dead felt like? What would await him when he opened his eyes, what did death look like?

Nervous to actually make these discoveries, Marcus kept his eyes closed a little longer, trying to sort through all the thoughts swirling around in his head while relying on his other senses to give him more information about his surroundings.

Soft cotton brushed against his fingertips as he moved them lightly, cautiously, and also against the back of his hand when he lifted it a little. A slight salty breeze tickled his nose, giving evidence of a source of fresh air being close, and he could hear the cries of seagulls in the distance.

It was the complete opposite of what he'd gotten used to during the months or maybe years of imprisonment — the cold, dark cell with its thick air stinking of dozens of disgusting things he didn't want to imagine, with its hard stone walls dripping with water.

By now, Marcus was certain that he was dead.

He just had to be, because there was no possible way of him getting out of that hell on earth, that hopeless place that was reserved for the traitors to the Dark Lord that weren't important enough to be executed publicly.

However, despite all the torture he'd endured due to his blood treason, he didn't regret his deeds at all. They may have gotten him into the most horrible situation of his life, but at least his conscience was free, because he'd done everything in his might to save the person he loved instead of taking advantage of the privileged position his family's loyalties had put him into.

When he'd heard about the plans of getting rid of the last organised resistance of the country and had gotten his hands on the list of wanted rebels, spotting the name of Katie Bell among them, he'd already known that there would be only one option for him. The thought of doing nothing had made his chest tighten, physical pain spreading through him, and so he hadn't allowed himself any second thoughts.

If there was a right time to stay true to the hidden love that had grown between them during the last few years and let it finally come to light, then it was now.

All his energy had been put into escape plans and their concealment until the day he put them into action. Everything had happened so quickly back then that it was a blur, and he was still haunted by the moment they'd been caught.

During his sleepless nights he lived through it again, remembering crystal clear how Katie had tried to hold on to him while he pushed her away and the portkey into her arms, trying to shield her until the moment it activated and took her into safety. Marcus could still hear her calling his name in this begging tone that implied that whatever would happen to them, she wanted to stand by his side during it all and not leave him alone.

Since then, all the beauty and hope had been ripped from his life, disappearing with Katie as the portkey took her away, leaving only pain and darkness and longing. And somehow, the pain of having lost Katie, of not being reliably informed if she was safe, was worse than the physical torture.

Marcus didn't know for how long he'd been lying there, caught in his own thoughts, until it occurred to him that all the questions that had piled up could be answered if he simply opened his eyes. The thought made him nervous, caused his heart to pump harder, but he'd never been one to back down from a confrontation.

His eyelids fluttered, blinking rapidly against the intensity of the light that they weren't used to anymore after months of being in a dark cell, and Marcus could only see vague silhouettes of furniture and structures. He took his time letting his limited gaze wander around until it fell onto a shadow, a dark outline against the main source of bright light.

Someone was with him in the room.

Marcus' first instinct was to shut his eyes, to pretend that he was still unconscious even though that had never worked for him during his captivity. Only a moment later he realised that hiding wouldn't solve this, though, and took a deep breath to calm himself, just in the way he'd done before stepping out onto the Quidditch pitch. Whatever this place was, it could only get better, considering where he'd come from.

It took some time until his eyes got used to the light and he was able to see everything a little clearer; the person hadn't moved for the whole time, making him suspect that they hadn't even noticed that he'd woken.

After a few more blinks, his eyes were finally able to focus, and Marcus' heart actually skipped a beat when everything became clearer. The person was a young woman, sitting by the open window, engrossed in a book resting on her thighs. A light breeze, the same he'd felt and smelled earlier, gently moved her brown hair, the sunlight illuminated her softly, and it was a picture that just didn't look like it was from this world.

Maybe he was dreaming?

He could only be dreaming, because there was no way he was free from his prison cell and Katie Bell was sitting just two meters away from him. During the time of his captivity, he'd lost all hope to ever see her again; his torturers had continually told him that they'd caught her anyway, that they'd had their fun with her before freeing this world from yet another blood traitor.

And yet, she looked so real, realer than the best dream picture could be, and a moment later, Katie became blurred again as Marcus' eyes filled with tears.

"I thought you were dead," he whispered, his voice rough and croaky from having been used for nothing but screaming lately, and Katie looked up. His heart was heavy in his chest, and he wasn't ashamed when a few sobs broke free from him, all the fear he'd endured releasing. Here, in her presence, showing weakness wouldn't make him vulnerable.

"How is this possible? They told me…"

Katie put her book down and quickly crossed the distance between them, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Marcus could see the sadness in her eyes, fully aware that he had to make a pathetic picture, tears running down his cheeks, no trace of his trademark stoicness and hardness left. He just couldn't control what the wave of relief that hit him caused inside him.  
"Your plan worked, Marcus. I got away before they were able to catch me." Her voice was quiet but strong, full of pride and gratitude, and a calming warmth spread through Marcus when she cupped his cheek, catching some tears with her fingertips. "You saved me, so I gathered people to help me save you in return. I'm sorry it took me so long."  
"There were people willing to risk their skin to save an enemy?" Marcus asked, a smirk able to push through the tears as he slowly felt lighter, some of the burdens of the last months taken from him. "I thought everyone close to you would actually help to keep me in that hellhole."  
Desperate to touch her, Marcus tried to raise his arm to take her free hand, but a dull ache shot through him at the attempt. A wince escaped him and Katie shook her head, answering softly: "Don't move too much, the healing potions aren't done with their work yet. I called in some favours and none of the people I asked were actually reluctant. They all knew what you've done for me."  
They looked at each other for a long moment in silence, Marcus taking in every single one of her features, as if he could only be sure that this was real if he'd compared the Katie in front of him to the one in his memories. She looked the same, though there was a trace of exhaustion in her soft smile. As she started running her fingers through his dark hair, a feeling of complete and utter peace started to spread inside him, and he could finally believe that it was over.

"How long was I gone? And where are we?"

Ignoring her earlier words about not moving, he mobilised all his strength and pushed himself up, Katie grumbling something under her breath before grabbing and supporting him until he was leaning against a pillow, sitting. "We're on an island in Scotland, far away from all civilisation. After we were separated, I met other fugitives by coincidence. They were on their way here, because they'd heard that a safe haven had been established here for all witches and wizards who were forced to leave their homes."

She adjusted his pillow a little and took a deep breath, a flash of guilt passing over her face before she continued. "It took me six months to contact the right people and organise everything. I… I wished I could have been quicker… when I saw you in that cell…"

Her voice broke and she closed her eyes in an attempt to control herself; Marcus' arm ached but he ignored the feeling to wrap it around her, just wanting to hold her close. Of course he'd never seen himself, but if he'd looked only half as bad as he had felt, he could understand why Katie would feel the need to blame herself.

"You did all you could, and it took the time it needed. It's okay. It's over. That's all that matters, right?"

Katie was silent for a long moment, leaning her head against his shoulder gingerly, then she nodded. "You're right. I'm so glad I got you back."

Her arms looped around his chest and she cuddled into him completely, holding him so tight that he almost winced, but it was a discomfort that faded away quickly. Shifting a little, he leaned his cheek against Katie's hair and let his gaze wander to the window, listening to Katie's calm breath. From the bed, he could see a strip of lush green meadow that seemed to end in the dark blue ocean, white foam dancing on top of the waves. The sky above was slightly grey, the sun breaking through the clouds from time to time, getting stronger with every minute, as if a storm had just passed by and everything was calming down now.

He knew that it would take some time until all wounds had healed, but for now, he could find enough comfort to enjoy that everything he saw was beautiful, and nothing hurt.


End file.
